


The Misfortune of a Breton

by PaigeofMaces



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Blind Character, Light Angst, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-13 00:19:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9097219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaigeofMaces/pseuds/PaigeofMaces
Summary: A blind Breton journeying to Skyrim discovers her destiny after being arrested by Imperial soldiers. Can she follow her destiny without falling from it when she cannot see it?





	

Chapter One 

 

A creaking cart, the clopping of hooves on the road, a faint rustle of leaves on a tree. With the feel of the sun on my skin, cutting through the chill of Skyrim’s wind it feels like a wonderful day. I flex my wrists slightly and feel the unyielding bonds dig in, I jerk my head up with a hiss of pain and receive an unexpected reply

“hello, you’re finally awake” says a man with a Nordic accent “you got caught trying to cross the border right? Got caught by that Imperial ambush same as us, along with that thief over there” his tone seems friendly so I nod towards the voice. Before the man can speak again a younger Nord butted in to rant about Stormcloaks making his “job” harder and regretting not getting away with the horse he stole. I wrinkle my nose and frown at him, he neglected to mention that the horse had been mine and he’d wrestled me off it with the resulting “chase” and “fight” leading to being bound in carts with Stormcloaks.  
Horse-Thief seemed to be oblivious to my dislike of him and blustered to me about how unfair our imprisonment was, how the Imperials had no right to do this. I aimed a kick at where I thought he sat, to one oddly muffled grunt and a snort from Horse-Thief.  
“We’re all brothers and sisters in bonds now, maybe we should act like it” murmured The Stormcloak almost amusedly.  
“Shut up back there” yelled someone to the left of me. His instruction was promptly ignored by Horse-Thief who muttered “what’s up with him?” I grinned slightly and leaned forward to whisper loud enough for my two companions to hear “a splintery seat and bad piles?”  
“watch your tongues both of you, that’s Ulfric Stormcloak the true High King of Skyrim” Snapped The Stormcloak  
“Ulfric Stormcloak is driving the cart?” I asked confused  
“Ulfric Stormcloak? The Jarl of Windhelm? If they captured you, where are they taking us?” asked Horse-Thief almost over the top of me, his voice quaking with fear.  
“All I know is Sovengarde awaits us at the end of this” the resigned voice of A StormCloak replied casting a cloud of despair over the small cart. I felt tears begin to well up as I realised I would never return home again. Horse-Thief began to panic and shuffle his feet around on the cart bed whimpering to himself.  
“where do you come from, both of you?”  
“Chorrol, why?”  
“Rorikstead, I’m from Rorikstead, why do you care?”  
“A Nord’s last thought should be of home. For a Breton as well.”

I entered a reverie of Chorrol, bringing back all the memories I had of it, remembered its sounds, the smells, my family and felt at peace. A peace that was broken by one word from our driver. Headsman. Headsman. For a moment, I forgot to breathe and Horse-Thief began a jittery plea to the gods for help. A gate slammed shut, clanking with finality. The Stormcloak man tried to keep our morale up after a cart driver yelled about a Headsman waiting. Tried to give us someone to hate, a person called Tullius and a Thalmor ambassador. The sun’s warmth faded, replaced by a chill wind and I shuddered slightly wishing that the Imperials had let me keep the warm cloak I’d travelled in. Somewhere behind me I heard the voice of a Nord father ushering his child inside as our cart rumbled passed him and started slowing down. We stopped soon after and Horse-Thief’s muttering’s continued part plea to the Divines, part scared whimper as a loud female voice shouted “get the prisoners out of the carts! NOW! Hadvar, check who we have in cart 4!”.

“Let’s go, don’t want to keep the gods waiting” said The Stormcloak, nudging my foot gently. I stood up carefully, I didn’t trust the Imperials to help me up if I fell over with my hands bound. They’d probably rush the headsman over straight away and later talk about the helpful Breton who made her execution easier by falling flat on her face at their feet. I denied them that satisfaction and covertly tried to rub any hint of tears away on my rough smock. Scared and, angry as I was going to face this with dignity. Horse-Thief had a different idea “we’re not rebels, you don’t want to kill us, we weren’t with them!”

“face your death with some courage horse thief, even that young woman can manage it.”

“that’s because she has no idea what’s going on, she can’t see the axe” Horse-Thief’s voice became shrill and made my ears hurt.  
The jump from the cart shook me a little but I’d managed to stay upright and avoided being the first under the axe by being clumsy.  
“Name: Ulfric Stormcloak of Jarl Windhelm” said a new voice, followed by an almost inaudible scratch of pen on paper and feet moving away.

“it’s been an honour Jarl Ulfric” Murmured the Stormcloak to my left

“Ralof of Riverwood” The voice continued and Ralof, The Stormcloak, walked away from me.

“Lokir of Rorikstead” My pulse picked up, I was next. The voice with the list would call it out any second and time almost stood still as the quill made a third scratch.  
Lokir Horse-Thief then made his brilliant move “I’m not a rebel” He shouted again “you can’t do this!” followed by the slap of bare feet on stone. I willed him to be the one to escape, trying forgive him for landing me in this situation. The call for archers from the loud woman made my blood run cold. “anyone else feel like running?” she asked cooly.  
Damn.

 

I was alone with the Nord with the book now and instead of my name being called out I got a shocked “Who are you?”  
I stood a moment, feeling nonplussed “Yves, Yves of Chorrol”

“Captain, what do we do? She’s not on the list”

“forget the list, she goes to the block” the loud captain barked and I wished that I could have run too. The archers were expecting it, I’d be made into a pincushion at the second step

“by your orders, Captain” The man walked over and gently took my arm “I’m sorry Yves, I’ll make sure your remains get back to Cyrodiil”. With that he lead me to the area where the headsman waited.

I didn’t struggle, it felt like it would be too little too late at this point. Even after one Stormcloak decided that the last rights were taking too long and hastened his own death. I stood, gently holding Hadvar’s arm focusing on the feel of skin and leather, the cool breeze and the jeers from the Stormcloaks. I hoped that being the last off the carts would mean I was one of the last to go to the block  
“Next, the Breton!” yelled the bossy Imperial woman, as if she could read my mind. As if to make that statement even more ominous an odd sound tore across the sky as Hadvar pushed me forward.  
Step by step I walked towards the block, each step seeming to take days. All too soon I felt the blood of the Eager Stormcloak squish unpleasantly through my tattered footwraps followed by rough hands pushing me to my knees and my head to the block. A loud roar sounded from somewhere close by as I heard someone moving by my side. Everything went silent for a moment as I closed my eyes in a final futile guesture. In that moment, everything changed. A second roar, so close it seemed to split the air and the feeling of utter malevolence surrounded me. I turned my head on the block and felt the pressure of a horrible unhuman gaze stare right into me, judging me, knowing me, wishing me dead. A gaze of pure, cold evil.  
A third roar sounded and the noise of destruction followed it. I stood as quickly as I could and attempted to run away from the malevolent being, my head ringing from all the noises. I hadn’t gotten far when someone grabbed me and dragged me inside a building. Everyone inside was panicking and I felt too disoriented to try to keep track of who was who. I think I was with Jarl Ulfric at one point but I soon found myself alone again after the Thing broke through a wall and I was thrown by someone off the side of the building to “safety”. The time I was alone was nothing short of terrifying. Safety was a burning building with holes everywhere and I fell through the floor at one point, landing painfully on top of a table covered in bottles of mead. Honey adding a horrible sickly sweet smell to the smell of fire and blood. I staggered to my feet with difficulty, my hands were still bound tight. Somehow the binding hadn’t loosened at all. On painful, wobbly legs I made my way out of the building hoping there was someone around who could get me out of this horrible situation.

The Divines smiled on me as I managed to run into Hadvar who had been searching for survivors. He kept me close as we slowly made our way around the town, being as quiet as we could. The malevolent presence could still be felt flying overhead and at one point it landed very close to our hiding spot, I didn’t know why I could still feel it when it’s attention seemed to be focused on other people. It faded for a short time and we ran out into paved area that was full of the sound of fighting. Hadvar having to let me go a few times to defend himself against attackers. He had just finished despatching an attacker when someone yelled his name over the din of the fighting.  
“Ralof, you damned traitor, get out of our way!” he called out

“You’re not going to stop us from escaping this time!” came the reply

“is this really the best time for you two to be arguing?” I asked shrilly “can’t we just get out of here? That thing is coming back again”

A hand grabbed me by the arm “alright, in to the keep” they said. A door was kicked open and my rescuer pulled me into the calm, the door slamming shut on the chaos in Helgen.

**Author's Note:**

> My first attempt at writing a fanfic, I had the idea while playing Skyrim and wondering how difficult it would be to play it like I was blind. I hope you all enjoyed it.


End file.
